Tears were rolling down people’s faces in the crowd. There was a woman from Selma, Al. who told me she never believed this was actually possible, that a black man would one day accept a major party nomination. She was wiping away tears throughout his speech and during the biographical video that came before it.
I stood on the field alongside the California delegation, my own people, to witness history in the making. “With profound gratitude and great humility, I accept your nomination for President of the United States.” Sure, I kept listening, but that was the line that marked a significant break from a pattern in history. It has been said by many men before but never by a black man, never by a skinny boy with a funny name.
The speech had everything necessary – policy, inspiration, challenges to McCain. It was the best speech that I have ever seen. It was aggressive yet moving. Political yet emotional. If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it. At the same time, I re-watched part of it on TV later in the evening and have to say, while you can probably hear more at home, you miss the excitement and fervor of the crowd.
One thing that I have to mention was the spectacle of it all. It was a profoundly moving speech but it was also an absolutely thrilling day at Invesco. The venue was enormous and approximately 85,000 attended, according to pass scans. That meant incredible mile long lines for security. Getting there took patience but getting out was a mob scene. Luckily during the day, people trickled into Invesco at different times but when it was over, everyone wanted to leave and that meant tearing down fences, walking on train tracks, doing anything that they could to get to their parking spots a half mile away (the closest parking).
Inside Invesco it was a party. People were dancing, singing, cheering, and with live performances by Stevie Wonder and Sheryl Crow it was truly a celebration.
Julia Moss' Political Playground 
Admittedly, I didn’t watch much of the convention (largely because of the late starts for all of the major speeches as a result of the time difference), but I did stay up last night to watch Obama. And I’m glad I did.
I’ve complained a great deal over the past three years or so about the fact that there weren’t any candidates who represented me, my beliefs. Although I believed those candidates were out there, I felt the political system, as currently structured (with its emphasis on fundraising and influence by special interests), kept them from even running for office, let alone winning.
My first real exposure to Obama was a “Meet the Press” interview he did back in January 2006, and during the interview, for the first time, I heard a politician express those same concerns:
“Well, I think the problem of money in politics is bipartisan. I think that all of us who are involved in the political process have to be concerned about the enormous sums of money that have to raised in order to run campaigns, how that money’s raised, and at least the appearance of impropriety and the potential access that’s given to those who are contributing. That’s a general problem with our politics.”
When Obama decided to run for president in 2007, I remembered that interview, but I didn’t expect his campaign to go anywhere. Somehow, though, he won Iowa — and kept winning until he captured the nomination. At some point that process, I realized that I had my candidate, years before I ever thought it was possible.
Last night, Obama reminded me, yet again, that someone does understand, does represent me, all of us. He had many memorable lines during his speech — some emotional, some inspiring, some critical — but what struck me the most was this Sorkin-esque passage:
“I know there are those who dismiss such beliefs as happy talk. … And you know what? It’s worked before because it feeds into the cynicism we all have about government. When Washington doesn’t work, all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been dashed again and again, then it’s best to stop hoping and settle for what you already know. I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don’t fit the typical pedigree, and I haven’t spent my career in the halls of Washington. But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the naysayers don’t understand is that this election has never been about me; it’s about you.”
I want to believe. And despite everything, I’ve never stopped because, even though it might be a thousand moves away, I do see that better place around the bend.